


The Perfect Thread

by lyonessheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Designer Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Fit Model Harry Potter, Friends to Lovers, Gay Draco Malfoy, H/D Career Fair 2017, M/M, Post-War, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyonessheart/pseuds/lyonessheart
Summary: Draco has been busy stitching himself back together after the war, but the thread he really needed, had always been in England waiting for him.





	The Perfect Thread

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt #[92](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LiaSm8GWFLsDD8KUOZmlTSHmhIMyFZzdqYNfB-25Khk/edit).
> 
> Thank you dear mods for your unending patience and to my lovely beta smirkingcat, who has helped me finish this story. Dear prompter I hope you have as much fun reading this, as I had writing it :) I would love to know what you thought!

It is quiet. An eerie absence of sound and he tries his very best to keep it that way. As long as he is invisible he has at least the illusion of being safe.  
At first, when he withdrew into his room he thought he would die of boredom, but he has found solace in his old hobby. The one that nobody knows about. Just like they don’t know about many other things.

He has gathered the black robe in front of him, the cut is not yet perfect, but it is one of his more polished pieces, and he fervently wishes that one day he will be able to see how the folds of a robe, made by himself will fall over a broad chest, will cover the wizard or witch in front of him in something beautiful that he has made.  
  
But it is wishful thinking only when there so much more important things to be done, like surviving this war in the first place., So he bans the thoughts of frivolities from his mind and concentrates on the work in front of him. It is his way of calming himself, of finding an anchor in these crazy times. It fortifies his occlumency shields in a way that nothing else can.

He moves the thread through the fabric, in and out, slowly - in tune with his breath. He takes care not to make too much sound, lest someone my check up on him and discovers his secret.

With the current guests in Malfoy Manor, it would not do to give a reason for questioning.  
  
Slowly he paints a picture with silk onto the fabric in front of him, red and gold flowing into a shape, and he smiles bitterly at the thought that he finds solace in creating the very image of a creature symbolic of life and rebirth, intertwined with the snake that he has already embroidered onto the robe. For like a snake he wants to shed his skin and start anew.

But he has chosen his path. Dictated by his love for his family, and he will stick to it, hoping that it will not bring him further pain than it already has. So he keeps moving the needle through the fabric and breathes in and out.

 

 

***

Pansy has been crying. She tries to hide it, but the soft sheen over her eyes and the slight redness of her upturned nose, are giving her away. When he steps up to her, she averts her face from him.

“What happened Pans?” He uses the childhood nickname she hated so much because it is one of the few things that still make her smile.

“Nothing, Dray.” She tries to put on a strong facade and he admires and hates her for it at the same time. They are friends and she needs to hide her pain from him?

"Cut it out. You may feel the need to lie to anyone else, but never to me."

She sighs, before looking straight into his eyes. "Marianna has decided that she wants to hold a formal betrothal Ball in two weeks."

"Shit." It goes without saying that Pansy will not be able to purchase new dress robes within that timeframe, not to mention that no tailor in Wizarding England will serve a daughter of a former Death Eater. Her future mother in law knows this and hopes to embarrass her enough to call off the betrothal. Well not if he has anything to say about it.

"Yes, and to add insult to injury, she has decided on a colour-scheme" Pansy grimaces and he knows, "Shades of Pink." He blurts out before Pansy can, and she blinks.

"How did you know?"

Well, Pink is the colour she hates most, so it is the best choice to make her despair.

"We can work with this... Marianna has forgotten that your best friend is unapologetically gay. And she has a limited imagination when it comes to pinks. She probably thinks that you will suffer her idea of Hot Pink, but there are so much more shades of pink. Would you rather go for Champagne Pink, Pink lace, Pale Pink or Baby Pink, if you would like to stay in the light shades? We could also go for Orchid Pink, Amaranth Pink or Charm Pink."

"I love you." She smiles again and in his mind, he already imagines how he will make her robe: already sees the high collar, borrowing elements from the Chinese Qipaos, and the skirt flaring out dramatically with the help of strategic godets that he will make from darker shades of pink. For added glamour he will use silver yarn, to make her shimmer.  
Yes, her future Mother in Law will rue the day she came up with this colour scheme. She looks at him with a calculating expression.

"You know Dray, with your talent you really should try to make a living out of it."

Maybe one day he will.

 

 

***

Pansy looks radiant, there is no other word for it. As she twirls with her fiance on the dance floor, all of the shades of pink that he has worked into the robe shimmer around her. She looks like a blooming peony, and the smile that she wears is more beautiful than any piece of jewellery she could have worn.  
Draco grins to himself, Marianna almost lost her composure when her unwanted future daughter in law stepped out and, wore not just one, but 20 shades of pink combined into one robe.

"She is beautiful." The voice is so unexpected that Draco himself almost loses his composure.

"What are you doing here Potter?" As he turns to look at his former adversary, he cannot help but notice that the robes Potter are wearing, fit him like a second skin. "And wow, you look decent for a change." The words are out before he can check himself, and he cringes.

"Yeah I know, apart from school robes I never had any made for me. Seemed like a waste of money when I didn't know if I would survive my seventh year." Harry turns on his heel and the robe flares out. Draco notices the slim waist and the shoulders. Harry has been a steady fixture in his life since the eight-year at Hogwarts had thrown all of them together and somehow they have managed to become friends. But still, to see him here throws him a little.

"So do I pass judgement? Oh, and to answer your question, Pansy invited me." Harry smiles and that open smile does something funny to Draco's innards. He feels warm all of a sudden.

"Well you look more than decent, to be honest, you actually look nice, but don't let it get to your head." He mumbles.

"Thank you." Harry accepts the compliment with ease. "It feels good to wear quality robes, and I am glad that Pansy found a tailor."

"You knew about that problem?" Draco finds himself presented with a glass of champagne, and Harry takes a cautious sip of his own glass. He wrinkles his nose and Draco chuckles.

"Let's sit for a bit?" Harry sound hopeful and somehow Draco can't deny him the talk. He motions towards two small chairs in a cosy little nook.

"I knew about the problem. I have watched out for you Slytherins since the trials ended, and I know that the world has not been kind." Harry's eyes are dark green "I can't stand it how we have gone from one prejudice towards another, but right now there is not much I can do about it. When I got the invitation I offered Pansy to vouch for her at Twilfit and Tattings, but she would not hear anything of it. She said she would come up with a solution or go bare, that would be a shade of pink as well."

Draco cannot help it but laughs, the sentence is so Pansy, but then he remembers her tear streaked face and scowls a little again.  
"Oh," Harry says after a while as if he has come to a conclusion, "I see."

They sip champagne in silence for a while before Harry addresses him again. "You know, if I had a talent like this, I would do my best, to learn everything there is, to travel and see where the world takes me."

"Yeah well, you don't have a travel restriction on you, and my access to the Malfoy Vaults has been blocked entirely until my father has been kissed." Draco doesn't know why it is so easy to be open.

"Hm." Harry is silent for a while. "We'll see about that."

"I don't need help!" He wants to shout, but it comes out as a whisper.

"We all do." Harry gets up with a fluid motion. "I for one need help dancing so would you dance with me? But you need to lead."

"Marianna will have a fit!" Draco laughs.

"She deserves it!" Harry laughs as well and there is mischief in his eyes.

When they dance it feels natural, Draco can't help but notice how Harry fits into the curve of his arm, and how he follows his lead. But Draco also knows that just wishing amounts to nothing and so he refuses to dwell on the thoughts in his mind. Harry dances with him because he wants to annoy Marianna, and judging from the unattractive shade of puce she has turned, he has succeeded.

"I had a wonderful time," Harry says when they finally step of the dance floor, and Draco swears that a blush sits on Harry's cheeks.

"Me too. You are full of surprises, Harry."

"I have to leave now, but remember that we all need help once in a while." Before Draco can ask what he means, Harry has gone up and left and leaves Draco standing wondering what he wanted to tell him, with these cryptic words.

Three weeks later he receives the information that the travel ban has been lifted and that he is allowed a monthly stipend from the Malfoy Vaults for his living. The owl that brings the news also carries a Handwritten Note.

"A talent like yours needs to be honed and explored. I know you will be greater than great one day. Yours H.P."

He packs and leaves for Paris the next day.

 

 

 

***

Five years have gone by. Five years to grow, to heal and to learn. But also to yearn for familiar faces and to miss the people he loves.  
  
He has travelled the world and collected ideas and styles, he has spent countless nights, bowed over different fabrics, learning their feels. He has cut and sewn, has draped and ironed. He has looked at faces and bodies, has covered them and has learned as much about himself as he has about design.  
  
He is happy to return to England now. His home is calling to him, even though he has found peace in leaving places and exploring unknown cities, he has soaked up knowledge and knows that he is ready. It won't be easy, but it is time.

 

 

***

The shop with the attached atelier is perfect. He loves the light falling into the backroom, and he can see himself already working with the fitting models.  
  
The front is smaller than Madam Malkins, but it has a cosy, elegant feel to it. Draco breathes a lot easier when he signs the contract and begins with the renovations. His collection is almost ready, but who will buy at "Dragon's Fashion"? He needs someone to endorse him, but right now he has no idea on how to approach anyone that could support him.  
  
He stands in his shop, with its nooks and crannies, with the elegant feel and the robes draped for a first look. His work pride demands that he will make the robes individually for each customer, given that someone will set foot into the shop. He has no illusions that people will be suspicious.  
  
Suddenly he feels unendingly tired and slumps onto the stool he has set into the middle of the room. Just for a second, he wants to breathe and think that this was not entirely crazy.  
But before he can gather his thoughts the door makes a sound and he looks up.

"Potter" Is all that he gets out because there in the door stands the man, who has been with him if only in thoughts for the last five years.

"Hello, Draco. I had hoped that I was still Harry to you?" The smooth baritone does strange things to Draco's insides.

By Merlin, Harry is fit. Gone is the scrawny little boy and gangly teenager that Draco remembers. In his place stands a well-defined man. He is not very tall, being deprived of nutrients for a long duration might stunt anyone's growth, but he carries his five foot seven proudly. He has well-defined shoulders and a trim waist, that Draco so wants to put his hands on. He longs to dress Harry in a robe specially made for him.

"Hello, Harry." His voice sounds husky, and he feels embarrassed for himself. Surely, Harry Potter, has people swoon over him all the time, and it would not do to do the same within minutes of seeing him again for the first time in years.

"I am sorry that I just entered, but I recognized your style and the door wasn't locked." Harry blushes a little.

"You recognized my style?" Draco can just repeat the statement because he cannot wrap his mind around the words upon hearing them.

"Yeah, the mandarin style collar, combined with the godets on the witches robes. I've never forgotten how beautiful Pansy looked. You've gotten even better than I remember."

Harry is positively gushing, and Draco takes his time to look at his clothes. The cut and the fabric are exquisite if a little conservative.

"I never took you for someone who loves fashion." He quips.

"Well, I like looking good. And you once told me, that if I want people to take me seriously I need to look my best. I took that to heart." Harry looks at him, with such sincerity that Draco doesn't think twice.

"Would you be my fit model, for the upcoming fashion show?"

 

 

***

It is quiet for a bit. But then Harry grins at him.

"If you tell me what I have to do, why not?"

"Have you ever worked as a fit model before?" Draco has to ask, surely there will have been designers dying to have Harry Potter work for them?

"I had a couple of requests, but I never felt really comfortable doing it."

"Then why would you do it for me?" Draco can feel his eyebrows climbing towards his hairline.

Harry meets his face with an easy smile. "Because I trust you, want you to be happy, and am sure that you will make me look absolutely gorgeous."

"Ok, if you are absolutely sure." He asks once more because surely he is dreaming? Harry did not just offer him the perfect solution to all of his troubles, and is really, really friendly with him?

"I am absolutely sure."

"Good then. Well, a fit model is basically a mannequin, a person to which I am moulding the pattern."

"So you create a robe on paper first, and then need the fitting model?" Harry seems genuinely interested.

"Not quite, I make a design first, that is I draw a picture of what I want a robe to look like." And he does it at the very moment, looking at Harry, he sees the deep greens and the seafoam colour in his mind, throwing strong lines onto paper and colouring the sketch with his magical brush, that draws the shades directly from his brain.

"Wow!" Harry looks at the robe in front of him with admiration. "This is beautiful."

"Then I order fabrics and start draping the robe onto a wooden dummy first. To see what the colours look like in real life. Once I have aligned them and made the flow just so, I can start constructing the pattern." It is a heady feeling to talk about his craft and have Harry so interested.

"Once the pattern is done, I can cut and start with a first fitting after hefting the clothes. That is where you come in."

"And I guess you would need quite some contact with me then." Harry sounds serious.

He checks himself because he has always prided himself on professional behaviour. He knows that some designers take a little liberty when fitting the clothes to their models, but with Harry, he wants to be extra careful. Even though he really wants to touch him, he will try and keep this on a purely working level. After all, Harry is probably in a relationship and would object strongly to being molested. And Draco really does not want to be on the wrong end of that wand or have Harry angry at him.

"I will, but be assured that I will be one hundred percent professional. This is important to me."

He is not sure, but something akin to disappointment flits through Harry's eyes. Gone within a second and replaced with fondness.

"I know this is important to you, and I want you to succeed. So tell me when to be here, and I will be here."

"Thank you." Draco releases a breath he had not know he was holding. "If you can be here around 7 tomorrow evening? I need to order the fabric, but we need to measure you and I can start with the pattern."

 

 

***

When Harry leaves the atelier, Draco cannot contain his exited whoop of joy. He has not felt this elated and happy in a long time.  
  
The simple truth is that part of him is still broken, and he only feels whole when he is putting something together, when his hands create something beautiful, something others would like to possess and when they long to have just a tiny bit of his talent. He knows that he is broken and that he can't really do anything to fix himself, apart from making beautiful clothes and to see that with each witch and wizard that come alive with the clothing that he puts on them he is mending the rift that he still sports in his soul.  
  
Maybe one day he will be able to feel whole again and not torn like a piece of fabric that has been treated without care. Until then he will continue to make clothes, to design robes for everyone who wants to own a piece of his design, because giving this back, making people smile when they see their reflection in his full-length mirror, that is his way of asking for forgiveness.  
  
But when Harry stood there, asked about his designs, with so much interest, when his eyes looked at him with such warmth. Draco felt whole for the first time in forever. As if Harry's smile was a thread that could mend the pieces of his existence.

 

 

 

***

 

Draco burns for this design. He can't wait to see, what Harry will look like in his robe, stunning, that is for sure, but he wants to see Harry's eyes alight with pleasure.  
  
He is so deeply entranced into the pattern construction, that once again Harry suddenly appears next to the construction table.

"Hi. I hope I am not too late?" Harry grins, and Draco's confusion must show on his face, because Harry raises a bag from which an enticing smell wavers into his direction. His stomach growls loudly and he feels himself flush hotly.

"I take it you have not eaten then, and I can persuade you to share this take away with me?" Harry's expression can only be called fond. "You always forgot to eat when you got sucked into a project, and I hoped to save you from starvation."

A startled laugh rips from Draco's mouth and he conjures two plates. "You remember my weaknesses well." He motions for Harry to sit at a small table, which he has positioned at the side far away from the fabrics. Harry nods and begins to dish out the food while looking at Draco with seriousness now.

"Not weakness, dedication and passion."

"Well I was talking about Chicken Kung Pao, but thank you for the compliment." Draco tries to diffuse the upcoming tension, and Harry smiles.

"Of course, now eat. You probably haven't had much food today and will continue to work late."

Harry settles at the table, and they eat together, talking comfortably, as if not five years had passed.

"I am almost done with the Pattern, tomorrow I can make the first trial pieces, not the actual fabrics, but if you want we can see how the pattern works with your body?" Draco is fully in his element and shares his excitement with Harry as soon as they have finished their dinner.

"Well, of course, that is what you have me as a fitting model, no?" Harry replies.

He could tell Harry, that, of course, he would be fine pinning the trial pieces to a dummy moulded after his body, after all that is what he will do in the future for his customers, but he wants to see him again and for once he indulges a little, he is not hurting anyone after all.

"If you don't mind, then yes it would be great to have you here. Tomorrow then?"

"I am looking forward to it."

He finds himself pulled into a tight hug and reciprocates a little awkwardly. How on earth is he supposed to get through the actual fittings when he has to touch Harry quite often?

 

 

***

The time for the final fitting has arrived faster than Draco had anticipated. So many evenings have they spend together, talking eating and Harry playing human doll.  
  
It has been remarkable, and Draco has stopped lying to himself, he wants Harry as much now as he did years ago. But having Harry's friendship itself is a heady thing and makes it ok to keep this professional for a while longer.

His fingers itch with want, there is no lying to himself, instead of fine fabric he longs to touch smooth warm skin. He would give his left arm and leg, to be allowed to explore the body in front of him, but he knows that it would do him no good.

He handles the fabric with as much care as he would treat Harry’s skin, and when he smoothes the soft silk, over the strong chest, his model's breath catches. It is only a slight hitch, but to him who is used to listening closely to nuances it tells the world. Maybe his hopes and wishes are not entirely unrealistic then? There is only one way to find out.  
  
A smile plays around his lips, and he crouches down, in order to check the fall around his hips. He trails his hand down, following the stitches that embroider the sides.  
  
The folds of the robe are soft and designed not to cause physical discomfort, and to anybody else, they would hide Harry’s state well from the world, but to him who has created this very piece of clothing, it hides nothing. He breathes out and Harry shivers.  
  
When he smoothes the cloth further, the erection which he hoped to find and which strains against Harry’s tight pants can no longer be hidden. Looking up at Harry, he cannot contain the quip.

“If that were a tight cut, you would be ruining the lines.”

Harry snorts. “As if you haven’t been trying to get a rise out of me ever since we started doing this.” his flushed cheeks betray his anxiety.

He cannot help himself, the laugh rips out of his mouth. "Well it is how we function, isn't it?" his own flushed face betraying his want, even though he has tried his hardest to control his urges.

"Me getting a hard-on, after your teasing?" Harry sounds sarcastically. "Not quite how we functioned before, Draco."

And fuck if hearing his name out of that mouth, quivering with want, doesn't do strange things to his insides.

"So should we stop?" Even he knows how reluctant he sounds.

Harry steps down from the dais, and hauls him up, before he can process what he really asked.

"The only thing you need to stop is being afraid. I will take this wonderful robe off before I do anything, but only because I would hate for your hard work to go to waste." He finds his mouth claimed thoroughly and all thoughts leave his head. The studio is dark, nobody is here, and the couch in the corner beckons to him. When breathing becomes an issue he tears himself away for a second.

"Couch" is all he gets out.

Harry nods, and steps back for a bit, to give him space, but Draco reaches back for him to remove the robe. He takes care not to crumple the fabric, and takes his time, touching the smooth skin he reveals with reverence.  
The body in front of him is a piece of art, tracing his lips over the collarbone, pressing kisses to the bronze skin. Harry moans brokenly but leaves Draco to dictate the pace.

"You are beautiful." He whispers, while touching every inch that he can reach. Falling to his knees feels natural and he buries his nose in the apex of Harry's thighs, feeling the heavy erection begging for attention. When he draws the pants down and begins to worship that beautiful cock he loses every sense of time.  
  
Much later he finds himself, naked on the couch, covered with Harry's hot body, sated, aching and deliriously happy. Harry peppers his face with kisses, and they snog for a long while.

"That was..."

"Yeah." Harry grins, before he becomes serious again. "Draco, there is no good way to ask this, but I need to know if this has a future?"

"Oh, Harry." Draco laughs breathlessly "Do you know why I came home?"

Harry shakes his head. "I came home, because I missed you, and now that I know just how well you fuck. Do you really think I will let you go?"

"Wow." Harry is silent for a bit, but it is a content silence. "You know when I made sure that you could go away, I almost begged you to take me along."

"I remember the note, but it seemed so reassured."

"Yeah well, it was not that easy. I wanted for you to succeed, but I hoped you would not forget me."

"Harry, if there is something I have never done, in my entire life, then that is forget about you." Draco breathes deeply. "Working with you, as my model was so hard, I tried to be professional because you are my friend. But god I wanted to touch you so badly."

"You can touch me all you want. You are the only designer I will ever be a fit model for."

And even though there still is work to be done on the robe, Draco forgoes that for the moment in favour of thoroughly kissing his lover.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or on [Livejournal](https://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/132431.html).


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